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I have mentioned as having raised

Le 9 avril 2018, 16:58 dans Humeurs 0

We ascended the steps, and passing through the portico went into the hall by what seemed to me a doorless way. It was not really so, as I discovered later; the doors, of which there were several, some of colored glass, others of some other material, were simply thrust back into receptacles within the wall itself, which was five or six feet thick. The hall was the noblest I had ever seen; it had a stone and bronze fireplace some twenty or thirty feet long on one side, and several tall arched doorways on the other. The spaces between the doors were covered with sculpture, its material being a blue-gray stone combined or inlaid with a yellow metal, the effect being indescribably rich. The floor was mosaic of many dark colors, but with no definite pattern, and the concave roof was deep red in color. Though beautiful, it was somewhat somber, as the light was not strong. At all events, that is how it struck me at first on coming in from the bright sunlight. Nor, it appeared, was I alone in experiencing such a feeling. As soon as we were inside, the old gentleman, removing his cap and passing his thin fingers through his white hair, looked around him, and addressing some of the others, who were bringing in small round tables and placing them about the hall, said: “No, no; let us sup this evening where we can look at the sky.”
The tables were immediately taken away.
Now some of those who were in the hall or who came in with the tables had not attended the funeral, and these were all astonished on seeing me. They did not stare at me, but I, of course, saw the expression on their faces, and noticed that the others who had made my acquaintance at the grave-side whispered in their ears to explain my presence. This made me extremely uncomfortable, and it was a relief when they began to go out again.
One of the men was seated near me; he was of those who had assisted in carrying the corpse, and he now turned to me and remarked: “You have been a long time in the open air, and probably feel the change as much as we do.”
I assented, and he rose and walked away to the far end of the hall, where a great door stood facing the one by which we had entered. From the spot where I was — a distance of forty or fifty feet, perhaps — this door appeared to be of polished slate of a very dark gray, its surface ornamented with very large horse-chestnut leaves of brass or copper, or both, for they varied in shade from bright yellow to deepest copper-red. It was a double door with agate handles, and, first pressing on one handle, then on the other, he thrust it back into the walls on either side, revealing a new thing of beauty to my eyes, for behind the vanished door was a window, the sight of which came suddenly before me like a celestial vision. Sunshine, wind, cloud and rain had evidently inspired the artist who designed it, but I did not at the time understand the meaning of the symbolic figures appearing in the picture. Below, with loosened dark golden-red hair and amber-colored garments fluttering in the wind, stood a graceful female figure on the summit of a gray rock; over the rock, and as high as her knees, slanted the thin branches of some mountain shrub, the strong wind even now stripping them of their remaining yellow and russet leaves, whirling them aloft and away. Round the woman’s head was a garland of ivy leaves, and she was gazing aloft with expectant face, stretching up her arms, as if to implore or receive some precious gift from the sky. Above, against the slaty-gray cloud-wrack, four exquisite slender girl-forms appeared, with loose hair, silver-gray drapery and gauzy wings as of ephemerae, flying in pursuit of the cloud. Each carried a quantity of flowers, shaped like lilies, in her dress, held up with the left hand; one carried red lilies, another yellow, the third violet, and the last blue; and the gauzy wings and drapery of each was also touched in places with the same hue as the flowers she carried. Looking back in their flight they were all with the disengaged hand throwing down lilies to the standing figure.
This lovely window gave a fresh charm to the whole apartment, while the sunlight falling through it served also to reveal other beauties which I had not observed. One that quickly drew and absorbed my attention was a piece of statuary on the floor at some distance from me, and going to it I stood for some time gazing on it in the greatest delight. It was a statue about one-third the size of life, of a young woman seated on a white bull with golden horns. She had a graceful figure and beautiful countenance; the face, arms and feet were alabaster, the flesh tinted, but with colors more delicate than in nature. On her arms were broad golden armlets, and the drapery, a long flowing robe, was blue, embroidered with yellow flowers. A stringed instrument rested on her knee, and she was represented playing and singing. The bull, with lowered horns, appeared walking; about his chest hung a garland of flowers mingled with ears of yellow corn, oak, ivy, and various other leaves, green and russet, and acorns and crimson berries. The garland and blue dress were made of malachite, lapis lazuli, and various precious stones.
“Aha, my fair Phoenician, I know you well!” thought I exultingly, “though I never saw you before with a harp in your hand. But were you not gathering flowers, O lovely daughter of Agenor, when that celestial animal, that masquerading god, put himself so cunningly in your way to be admired and caressed, until you unsuspiciously placed yourself on his back? That explains the garland. I shall have a word to say about this pretty thing to my learned and very superior host.”
The statue stood on an octagonal pedestal of a highly polished slaty-gray stone, and on each of its eight faces was a picture in which one human figure appeared. Now, from gazing on the statue itself I fell to contemplating one of these pictures with a very keen interest, for the figure, I recognized, was a portrait of the beautiful girl Yoletta. The picture was a winter landscape. The earth was white, not with snow, but with hoar frost; the distant trees, clothed by the frozen moisture as if with a feathery foliage, looked misty against the whitey-blue wintry sky. In the foreground, on the pale frosted grass, stood the girl, in a dark maroon dress, with silver embroidery on the bosom, and a dark red cap on her head. Close to her drooped the slender terminal twigs of a tree, sparkling with rime and icicle, and on the twigs were several small snow-white birds, hopping and fluttering down towards her outstretched hand; while she gazed up at them with flushed cheeks, and lips parting with a bright, joyous smile.
Presently, while I stood admiring this most lovely work, the young man Yoletta from the ground at the grave came to my side and remarked, smiling: “You have noticed the resemblance.”
“Yes, indeed,” I returned; “she is painted to the life.”
“This is not Yoletta’s portrait,” he replied, “though it is very like her;” and then, when I looked at him incredulously, he pointed to some letters under the picture, saying: “Do you not see the name and date?”
Finding that I could not read the words, I hazarded the remark that it was Yoletta’s mother, perhaps.

If I see her there again

Le 3 avril 2018, 18:14 dans Humeurs 0

“‘Tain’t so! I always hurries. I jest stays long enough to dust de flour away dat gits over everything, an’ to make his bed cumfa’ble fur him.”

“Lawdy, Lawdy! An’ you makes his bed cumfa’ble fur him? Ain’t dat nice! I speck! Look out you don’t do it once too many. Den it ain’t so fine, when somethin’ begin to show on you, Miss Yaller Face.”

Through Lizzie’s lewd laughter broke the frantic voice of a young thing bursting into tears.

“I won’t stay here to listen to your nasty tongue! An’ him de good kind man to every nigger on de place. Shame on you Business Start Up hong kong, you bad woman!” Nancy rushed out of the kitchen sobbing, her face buried in her hands. She did not see her mistress standing in the doorway.

That very night Nancy was ordered to bring her straw tick up from Till’s cabin and sleep on the floor outside Mrs. Colbert’s bedroom door. She had been sleeping there ever since.

Through the summer, lying outside the Mistress’s door was not a hardship, — the girl had always slept on the floor. But when the winter came on, drafts blew through the long hall up at the big house, and even when she went to bed with her yarn stockings on and had heavy quilts over her, the cold kept her awake in the long hours before daybreak.

On nights when the miller did not go down to the mill, but slept in the Mistress’s room, and she was not supposed to need a servant ready at call, Nancy was sent running across the back yard to Till’s cabin, with her tick in her arms and a glad smile on her face. She loved that cabin, and all her mother’s ways. Till and old Jeff slept in the “good room” where there was a bedstead. Nancy spread her mattress on the kitchen floor, where she could watch the firelight flicker on the whitewashed walls as the logs burnt down. There she felt snug Scholarships in hong kong, like when she was a little girl. And toward morning she could hear all the homelike noises close at hand: Uncle Jeff snoring, the roosters crowing, the barn dogs barking. Her mammy would maybe come and put an extra quilt over her, and then she would drift off to sleep again.

A few days after Nancy had begun to make her bed outside her mistress’s door, the miller came to his breakfast one morning with a grim face. He greeted his wife soberly, sat down, and began to eat his ham and eggs in silence. When his second cup of coffee had been put at his place, he said quietly:

“You may go, Washington, until your mistress rings for you.”

As soon as they were alone he lifted his eyes and looked across the table at his wife.

“Sapphira, do you know who has been coming down to clean the mill room lately?”

She looked up artlessly from her plate. “I think it was Bluebell. Don’t tell me she meddled with your things!”

“Bluebell; the laziest, trashiest wench on the place!”

“She’ll learn, Henry. If she doesn’t take hold, I’ll send Till down to make her step lively.”

“She’ll do no stepping at all in the mill Chair Cover Rental. , I’ll put her out. Nancy is to look after the mill room, as she always has done.”

“But Nancy is old enough now to be trained for a parlour maid. If you won’t have Bluebell, try one of Martha’s girls. Till has all the housekeeping to do now, since I can’t get about. She needs Nancy here.”

The miller was silent for a moment. His first flush of anger had passed. When he looked up again, he spoke quietly.

This is one of the most ornamental

Le 30 mars 2018, 03:30 dans Humeurs 0

    (From sun, together, and stulos, a style; in reference to the styles being connected.)

Sect start business in hong kong. Char.—Styles cohering together into an elongated column. Stipules adnate. The habit of this section is nearly the same as that of the last. The leaves are frequently persistent.

    R. sempervirens, Lin.—Evergreen Rose.—Syn. R. scandens, Mill.; R. Balearica, Desf.; R. atrovirens, Viv.; R. sempervirens globosa, Red.—Evergreen. Shoots climbing. Prickles pretty equal, falcate. Leaves of 5 to 7 leaflets, that are green on both sides, coriaceous. Flowers almost solitary, or in corymbs. Sepals nearly entire, longish. Styles cohering into an elongate pilose column. Fruit ovate or ovate-globose, orange-colored. Peduncles mostly hispid with glanded hairs. Closely allied to R. arvensis, but differing in its being evergreen, in its leaves being coriaceous, and in its stipules being subfalcate, and more acute at the tip. Native of France, Portugal, Italy, Greece, and the Balearic Islands. A climbing shrub, flowering from June to August Serviced Apartment HK.

Used for the same purposes as the Ayrshire Rose, from which it differs in retaining its leaves the greater part of the winter, and in its less vigorous shoots. This species is well adapted for rose carpets made by pegging down its long, flexile shoots. Its glossy, rich foliage forms, in this way, a beautiful carpet of verdure enameled with flowers.

    R. multiflora, Thunb.—Many-flowered Rose.—Syn. R. flava, Donn.; R. florida, Poir.; R. diffusa, Roxb.—Branches, peduncles, and calyxes tomentose. Shoots very long. Prickles slender, scattered. Leaflets 5 to 7, ovate-lanceolate,[Pg 23] soft, finely wrinkled. Stipules pectinate. Flowers in corymbs, and, in many instances, very numerous. Buds ovate globose. Sepals short. Styles protruded, incompletely grown together into a long, hairy column. A climbing shrub, a native of Japan and China; and producing a profusion of clustered heads of single, semi-double, or double, white, pale red, or red flowers in June and July.

 of climbing roses; but, to succeed, even in the climate of London, it requires a wall. The flowers continue to expand one after another during nearly two months.

    Var. Grevillei.—R. Roxburghii, Hort.; R. platyphylla, Red.—The Seven Sisters Rose.—A beautiful variety, with much larger and more double flowers than the species, of a purplish color. It is easily known from R. multiflora by the fringed edge of the stipules sage crm; while those of the common R. multiflora have much less fringe, and the leaves are smaller, with the leaflets much less rugose. The form of the blossoms and corymbs is pretty nearly the same in both.

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